


Unsustainable

by nyagosstar



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 10:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4825952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two times Dorian is injured and Bull comes to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsustainable

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt and and ended up writing my way to it in kind of a roundabout way. 
> 
> Adoribull Prompt Sunday - Trespasser: What happened between Bull and Dorian after the rescue mission to Tevinter by the Chargers

The battle ended with the last Venatori in pieces on the ground, but instead of Dorian whooping behind him, there was only silence when the barriers faded. Bull turned and saw Dorian on his knees in the dirt, listing to the side, his hand in a white knuckled grip on his staff. Bull covered the distance between them hope it was a case of exhaustion. He nearly stumbled as he came into range and saw the pale shaft of an arrow protruding from Dorian’s back. 

He shouted for the Boss as he slid to his knees at Dorian’s side, one hand coming up to support his chest. The head of the arrow pressed against Bull’s palm. There was blood on Dorian’s teeth.

The arrow was wicked, half an inch in diameter, stabbing through what sounded like a lung. Dorian was washed out, his skin missing the glorious warmth he normally carried and his eyes were dimmed. He wasn’t bleeding much, not yet.

Bull snapped his fingers near Dorian’s face, trying to keep him aware but Dorian struggled to track Bull’s words and his hand, eyes drifting shut. 

Herah settled next to them, her hands glowing where they touched Dorian. He stiffened and tried to move away, but there was nowhere for him to go. After a moment, Herah let the magic fade from her hands as she looked around the scene. “Sera! Tell me about the arrow.” 

Sera grabbed a twin shaft from a corpse and brought it over. “Wicked, this design. You try and pull it back out the way it came it’ll tear him up. Not much better going through, though.” She looked pale, paler than normal and her grip on the arrow was claw-like. “Don’t think they’re poisoned.”

“Dorian?” She called his name again until his head lolled in her direction. At his back, Sera was busy slicing the end of the arrow free of its fletching so they would be able to pull it all the way through. “We have to push the arrow through to help you. Do you understand? It’s going to hurt.” He blinked at her, long and slow.

“I think that’s the best answer we’re going to get, Boss. We don’t have a lot of time.” Bull adjusted his grip, cradling and bracing Dorian while Herah took hold of the shaft and in one swift move shoved it the rest of the way through Dorian’s chest. Dorian’s eyes flared wide in pain, his whole body jerked against Bull’s hold. His cry was drown by the fresh well of blood in his mouth. It was a kindness that he lost consciousness. 

Bull shifted his hold to allow Herah to pull the arrow the rest of the way out while Sera pressed a cloth to the hole in his back and Bull did the same to the one on his chest. Herah flung the arrow away once it was free and turned her magic on Dorian a moment later.

The fight with the Venatori had been long and her reserves must have been drained, but she showed no signs of strain as she poured magic into Dorian. On it went. The cloth in Bull’s hand was soaked with Dorian’s blood. His body felt lifeless under his touch. He heard Sera swear as she switched out her cloth for a dry one, her face half obscured by Dorian’s shoulder, but she looked pissed and lost. Bull understood.

Half an hour in, Herah let the glow die and slumped to the ground. “He’ll hold for now. We need to get him to real healers who do this shit for a living.” Herah’s magic was more piecemeal, the kind built up over a lifetime of apostate living. She was a strong fighter and good at defenses and could deal with minor wounds, but she didn’t have a specialty the way Dorian loved fire and dead things. Said she was too old, now, to learn.

“You can get my axe?” Bull shifted Dorian, gentle, gentle, until he could lift him in his arms. His head rested against Bull’s shoulder, his legs draped over Bull’s arm. 

“I’ve got it.” Herah swung his axe up onto her shoulders and they started off toward camp. 

Despite the recent battle, they kept up a swift pace. Sera ranged out ahead to clear the path, Herah provided the backup for any lingering bandits and Bull just breathed. He kept his head down, eyes on the ground and pushed all thought of his own personal aches and pains down until they didn’t exist. He had one job: get Dorian to the camp. Everything else was noise.

Twice Dorian roused during the trip. His eyes fluttered. He coughed a small fount of blood. Bull couldn’t think about what it meant that he didn’t try to speak or even seem to know where he was, what was happening.

The reached the camp in the fading light and he wanted to let go. Bull wanted to hand Dorian over to the healers that can save his life, but his body was locked down and he couldn’t unbend. Herah had to take the fat end of her staff to his head and knock him out before he could let go.

#

Bull woke in the quiet of a healing tent, alone. He sat, surprised to find a lack of aches in his body. The empty potion bottles next to his bed seemed to hold the answer. One of Stitches little hand-carved wooden figures was next to the bottles, so he found he didn’t mind that he’d been dosed in his sleep. Stitches knew what was all right.

He stood, pulled on his pants, but just hooked his harness over his shoulder. He wasn’t going far. Bright afternoon sun shot down into his eyes when he left the tent. The camp was quiet, a few people milling around, so he went poking his head into other tents until he found Dorian. Stretched out on a cot, swathed in bandages, his eyes were open and glassy. He smiled when he saw Bull and his forearm swung out on a hinge from his elbow, fingers crooked in beckoning.

“Bull,” he crooned when Bull sat. He peered at Bull. “You’re so big.”

Dorian didn’t seem to understand why Bull laughed, but he grinned anyway when Bull brushed back his hair. His skin felt hot. “How are you doing, Kadan?”

A scar on Bull’s arm caught Dorian’s attention and he traced it with his fingers, clumsy and wandering. Bull repeated his question and ducked his head to get some eye contact. “Oh. It hurts. But I don’t care that it hurts?”

“What do they have you on?”

“The strongest stuff I could find. You guys did a good job getting him here, but the trip was not kind to the wound.” Stitches stepped into the tent, checked Dorian’s forehead and pulse.

“Stitches gave me stitches.”

“That’s right, kiddo. And it’s just as funny as it was the first fifteen times.” He looked at Bull. “It doesn’t help it looks like he’s a little sensitive to royal elfroot. He shouldn’t be this high, but some people take it harder than others.”

“I can take it hard, right, Bull?”

Bull covered his laugh with a cough. “He’s going to be mortified when he comes down. How many people have been in?”

“Just the Inquisitor. I know how to run a medical tent.” He tucked the blankets around Dorian and stepped back. “He’s due up for another round of potions in an hour. You can sit with him until then.”

“Thanks.” He settled more comfortably on the ground next to Dorian’s cot where he could lean against the sturdy frame and Dorian had an easier time reaching him. He closed his eye and let Dorian chat at him, loose and full of wonder, until the potions in his system started to wane. His voice grew rough and a line pinched between his eyes. 

He whined, his eyes glossy with unshed tears and he clutched at Bull’s hand. “Hurts.”

Bull heaved himself to his feet. “I’ll get Stitches.”

“I’m right here, Chief.” The tent flap opened and Stitches came in with a handful of potion bottles. “Let’s get you sorted.” He motioned for Bull to help Dorian sit up just a little to make swallowing easier and then dumped four different bottles down his throat.

The lines on Dorian’s face smoothed, his eyes grew heavy and then he was out, limp and unmoving.

“He’ll be out for a couple hours at least, if you want to head out. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Stitches checked Dorian’s pulse again, and the fever running under his skin.

Bull settled back down next to Dorian’s cot. “Nah, I’m good. Want to be here in case he wakes up.”

The last of his checks complete, Stitches squeezed Bull’s shoulder on the way out of the tent. “Call me if you need anything.”

Dorian’s hand was strong and calloused, the hand of a fighter. He draped Dorian’s arm over his shoulder and laid his hand flat against his throat so Dorian would know, even in his sleep, that Bull was with him.

***

When Dorian woke, he didn’t know where he was. His body ached. He was thirsty. But he was in a comfortable bed and there was a warm body at his side. He turned his head and blinked up at Bull. He didn’t remember their bed being so big.

“This is a nice house, Kadan. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Bull.” He sat up, but he room spun and he listed into Bull’s gentle hold. “You can’t be here.” Not Skyhold, not during the fighting with Corypheus. They were in Tevinter. In danger.

“We’re okay,” Bull soothed, his hand in the center of Dorian’s chest, easing him back into the soft mattress. “No one but your people saw us come in. Just rest.”

He closed his eyes but jerked them open a moment later when he was overwhelmed with memories of the cell. He’d been careless. “How did you even find me?”

“Mae called me when you went missing. Lucky we were already pretty close.”

“We?” He looked around the room, but they were alone.

“The rest of the boys are in your guest wing, eating up all of your food and using all your fancy shit. This really is a nice place.” He brushed the backs of his fingers along Dorian’s cheek. “Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I’m going to be very upset with you if this is just a dream.” He closed his eyes, but with Bull’s hands on him, the memories of his capture weren’t as strong.

“Nah, no dream. I’m right here.”

#

The next time he woke, things were a little clearer. 

He sat up, ignoring the pain in his body in favor of fixing Bull with his most serious glare. “You can’t be here.”

“Good morning to you, too.” Bull crossed the room and deposited a tray on his lap. Steaming coffee in a delicate little cup along with a bowl of fresh fruit.

“It’s dangerous.” The coffee smelled divine. He took a sip and closed his eyes. It was just the way he liked it, the way he made it for himself when he took the time to add sugar and a touch of cream. The way he didn’t drink it most of the time because he didn’t have time for indulgences and had never asked the servants because it seemed too much of a bother.

Bull grunted. “As dangerous as, say, you ending up in the hands of your enemies?”

Dorian set down the cup at the tremble in his hands. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Whatever you say.” Bull plucked a cube of mango from Dorian’s plate. “I’ve been thinking. Had a lot of time to do that while you were unconscious. This thing? What we’re doing right now is unsustainable.”

He sounded so calm. Dorian pushed the tray away and drew his knees up to his chest. He thought when this moment came he would be ready. He’d had Bull’s attention for five years, he couldn’t expect to keep his gaze forever. “I see.”

“So, here’s what I’m thinking. Most everyone here already knows you were kidnapped. Blowing a great bit hole in a building and half a street will do that. Makes sense you’d hire a body guard. I stay here, watch your back and sleep better at night knowing that if you get into trouble I’m not half a world away.”

“What?” He shook his head, trying to follow the line of Bull’s thought. “What? No. You can’t be here. They’ll kill you.”

“And they’ll kill you if I’m not here. We got lucky this time, Kadan. Me and the boys were close and the people who took you wanted you pliable, not dead. So, I stay here and make sure that doesn’t happen. Krem takes over the Chargers—he’s been ready for it for a couple years now anyway—and everybody’s happy.”

Dorian reached out and grasped Bull’s hand, trying so hard not to think about everything Bull was offering him. “I can’t ask you to do that. You love leading the Chargers. Life for you here will be terrible.” But he was already imagining waking up every day with Bull in his bed, sharing breakfast and walks through the garden. Bull standing at his shoulder in the Magisterium, at his shoulder in the markets. Bull in his life. 

“No more terrible than if you’re dead. Besides, I think that I could get used to this.” He plucked at the fine sheets. “It is a very nice house.”

“So you’ve said.” He swallowed hard, afraid if he moved too fast it would all disappear. “It could be decades before I can leave Tevinter.”

Bull shrugged and pulled Dorian into his arms. “Eh, I think I can stand the thought of a few decades as long as I’m with you. What do you think?”

“Amatus.” He whispered the word into the scared skin of Bull’s throat. It was terribly selfish. He shouldn’t even consider it. He should send Bull away. But the thought of turning him down was inconceivable. “Yes. Stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about where and how Bull and Dorian end up at the end of Trespasser. I think it's good ending and I think it speaks to their devotion for one another that they choose to try to make a long distance kind of thing work, but I also want something better for them.


End file.
